


Sea Change

by Sholio



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Banter, First Kiss, M/M, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: It happens in the middle of a firefight, because of course it does.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/gifts).



> This also fills my h/c bingo "protection" square.

It's hard for Ray to figure out what the hell goes on in Mick's head, but it gets easier once he figures out everything works better if he just goes from one moment to the next, the same way Mick does. Just let things come, let the insults roll over him, which is pretty easy once he realizes that Mick doesn't really mean them -- or, no, it's the opposite of that; Mick's insults are the way he expresses affection, the bitingly affectionate flipside of the way he covers Ray's back in a fight, the flash of worry Ray occasionally catches right before Mick saves his ass (again). What it comes right down to is that he likes Mick, he really does, and he's pretty sure Mick likes him (in his more confident moments, anyway) and the rest of it can just sort of take care of itself.

But there's still an undercurrent he can't quite figure out, something electric, something that genuinely doesn't click in his head until they're in the middle of a fight involving giant flying alien bugs firing laser beams from their eyes ( _what are their lives even_ ) and he's just blown a few of them off Mick's back when the suit's controller gets fried and he goes down, hard.

The suit's electronics are pretty much toast, which is seriously annoying. At least the armor doesn't cover most of his face, so he's not in the dark. He's lying there struggling to get the servos to work well enough to at _least_ get the armor off his arms when suddenly his field of view is full of Mick, and Mick is dragging him off the field of battle and dumping him behind a warehouse out of the way.

"I'm fine," Ray gasps, "I'm fine, it's the suit, not me --" because he recognizes the frantic way Mick is patting him down, and he has to remember (can't exactly forget) that Mick's already lost one partner in the not-too-distant past, and Mick would've just watched him drop out of the sky like an Atom-suit-sized pile of bricks.

Mick takes hold of the visor and unceremoniously rips it off. "Hey!" Ray protests, because those things aren't _that_ easy to build, and then he can't say anything else because Mick's mouth closes over his, and he can't think and mostly can't breathe, and there's some part of him that just goes _Oh._

Mick tastes like smoke, of course he does, and his bulk is pressing Ray up against the side of the warehouse, and Ray just wants to stay like this forever, except he sort of _can't breathe, Mick_ , which Mick finally picks up on when Ray manages to get just enough control of one of the suit's arms back to whack him in the head.

Mick reels back looking startled, and Ray says weakly, "For the record, that wasn't entirely what I was trying to do."

He stops regretting it a fraction of a second later when Mick whacks _him_ in the head. The helmet blocks it, though he still feels it since the electronic shock-cushioning system is down too. "Hey!" he says again.

"Stop getting blown up," Mick orders, and smacks him in the chest for good measure, "and _stay there,"_ and then he's off, heat gun in hand, and there's a burst of light from the other side of the warehouse and the sizzling, shrieking sound of lots of bugs being fried with extreme prejudice.

Now that he has one arm free, Ray is able to extricate himself from his armor enough to start tinkering with the control module. He's still working on getting it back online when Mick strides into his field of view again, grabs him before Ray can do anything about it (not that there's much he can do, with his legs still trapped in the suit) and he's flung head-down across a pair of broad shoulders.

"No," Ray says flatly, dangling with his face more or less in Mick's armpit. "Put me down."

"We're pullin' out, Haircut," Mick tells him, and breaks into a run, which is _really_ not fun in this position.

"Give me two minutes and I can get the suit working again!"

"Ain't got two minutes," Mick grunts, and then he's pounding up the Waverider's ramp and the ship is already lifting into the air as they tumble into the cargo bay, Ray spilling bruisingly to the deck plates with a sound like a bunch of metal washtubs being rolled down a hill. The ship tilts in a steep climb and he wishes his radio hadn't been fried along with everything else, because if they're retreating in _this_ much of a hurry, then this mission must have gone even more sideways than most of them do.

Which is saying something.

Mick sits up and gives a hoarse bark of laughter. Ray just glowers at him, contorted like a pretzel on the cargo bay floor. He's managed to get at least _some_ control back, of the top half of the suit anyway, so he flops himself into a sitting position.

"You owe me another one, Haircut," Mick says, and even though he's trying to scowl, there's a hint of a smile at the corners of his eyes.

"Are we even counting?" Ray groans. Some component of the suit has come loose and is digging into his back. This is really uncomfortable. There's a part of his mind that's already circling around the idea of redundant power systems and better surge shielding ... but he flicks his tongue over his lips, tastes smoke, and that pulls his brain out of the science spiral in a hurry. "Are we gonna talk about what happened down there?"

"No," Mick says, and gets up and walks out of the cargo bay.

"Really?!" Ray yelps after him. He tries to get up and falls over again. "You're just going to leave me here? Mick, I'm going to -- Mick, get back here -- damn it, Mick --"

Jax comes in a minute or two later, as soon as the ship has leveled out in orbit, carrying a tool kit to help pry him out of the temporarily-moribund suit.

It's a couple of hours later before he has a chance to go looking for Mick, because apparently Firestorm managed to scoop up a bug sample and Stein wants to get his scientific opinion (they really need someone on the ship with a biochemical rather than physics or mechanical background, Ray thinks, staring at bug components under Gideon's scanners). After that's over and he's had a quick scan of his own body to make sure nothing's broken or compromised, he goes wandering on a Mick hunt. He could just ask Gideon, but he's obstinately determined to find Mick on his own, because he's pretty sure he knows all of Mick's standard brooding places. And it's actually just the second one he tries, after Mick's quarters: the mess, where Mick is sitting on the floor, in the corner, with a little collection of beer bottles going. He hasn't had time to get drunk yet; he seems to have just parked himself on the floor, for Mick reasons.

"Oh good," Mick growls when Ray sits down across from him and grabs the nearest beer.

"I'm not here to talk," Ray says, because he's had at least a little time to think while he's wandering around the ship looking for Mick, and he does actually have a pretty good ability to read people, when he puts some effort into it.

"Yeah?" Mick slams down an empty beer and reaches for another one. "What're you here for, then?"

"This," Ray says, and he leans forward and kisses him.

One of two things is going to happen next: either Mick is going to kiss him back, or punch him. He's not _too_ worried about the latter. Not ... much, anyway.

Mick's frozen at first, and then slowly opens his mouth, lets Ray in. Ray isn't sure what he was expecting, especially after the quick, rough kiss down on the planet, but it was nothing like this: slow, gentle, tender, like Ray's accidentally opened a door into a part of Mick's soul that he didn't even know existed -- some deeply hidden part of Mick, shut behind a million locked doors. Maybe Snart had seen it sometimes, but Snart's gone, and now all those doors have opened for _Ray_ , and all Ray can do is tell himself as he cups Mick's face in his hands, _For the love of God, Palmer, don't fuck this up._

They break apart at last, Ray with a little nibble at Mick's lips, and when Mick pulls back he looks like he's trying hard to get the walls back up, and not quite succeeding. In a rough echo of his usual growl, he mutters, "You better not be thinkin' about sayin' anything mushy, Palmer."

"Not at all," Ray says quickly, pushing down any thoughts, let alone comments, about Mick's soft underbelly. "But you know, there's a pretty good way to shut me up, if you want to make sure ..."

And the answering grin is sudden and fierce, as Mick reaches for him.


End file.
